


Hyphenate

by chewsdaychillin



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Marriage Proposal, Transcript Format, and then they talk about it basically ndwfeib, call him the archive whatever do your worst, caught on tape !!, i know in my heart that s5 starts with, self esteem problems :( but they deserve each other, statement recorded by jonathan blackwood-sims, the inherent romance of double barrelled surnames..............., the inherent romance of paying the uks outlandish rail ticket prices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22963054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chewsdaychillin/pseuds/chewsdaychillin
Summary: Can I take your name?Hm? Sorry, I was thinking about the wedding.So was I. I'm asking you if I can take your name.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 73
Kudos: 508





	Hyphenate

**Author's Note:**

> when is this set? excellent question. i dont know. started writing when i hit s3 and here i am posting this today.

[Tape clicks on.]

INT. OFFICE - DAY

_ [Low background noise of the office: ticking clock, a pen scratches against a pad. A slurping of hot tea. The comfortable silence of companionable working.] _

MARTIN:  
Can I take your name? 

_ [Pause. Pen keeps scratching.] _

JON:  
Hm? Did you say something? 

MARTIN:  
 _(Half-laughing, teasingly)_ Are you listening to me? 

JON:  
Sorry, I was thinking about the wedding. 

MARTIN:  
So was I.

_ [Audible smiling.] _

MARTIN:  
I’m asking you - can I take your name? Would you let me? 

JON:  
Let you? It’s your decision. 

MARTIN:  
It’s your name... 

JON:  
 _(Pausing)_ I mean - (spluttering) d-d-do you want it? Really? 

MARTIN:  
 _(Incredulous)_ What do you mean?

JON:  
Sims. I mean it’s not much to offer you, it’s not a glowing reputation. 

MARTIN:  
Well, head archivist’s not nothing - 

JON:  
It’s on police records, Martin! It’ll be in the Section Thirty-one folders, its - it’s in all those statements, on all the tapes... I mean... those aren't good things. Is it really worth even having? 

MARTIN:  
 _(Serious)_ It’s _yours_. That’s worth something. To me, anyway. _(Smiling, teasing)_ I want it. Is that clear enough for you? 

JON:  
I s’pose. ( _Soft, disbelieving)_ You’d really change your name? 

MARTIN:  
Well not completely. _(He sips his tea)_ I’d hyphenate. 

JON:  
Really? ( _Laughs)_ You’d go double barrelled? Like some Kensington Pony Club type? You’d hate to sound like them. 

MARTIN:  
 _(Laughs)_ No - come on. I think it’d sound good. 

JON:  
Hm? 

MARTIN:  
Martin Blackwood-Sims. I like how it sounds. 

_ [A moments pause. His words sit in the air.] _

JON:  
 _(Croaky)_ So do I. 

MARTIN:  
Spices it up a bit. Bit less boring. 

JON:  
 _(Defensive)_ There’s nothing wrong with your name. 

MARTIN:  
_(Sceptical)_ Hmm. It was my dad’s. 

JON:  
 _(Gets it)_ Hm. Well. I always liked it.

MARTIN:  
 _(Soft)_ You can have it. 

_ [A small intake of breath. A moments pause.] _

MARTIN:  
We could match...

JON:  
 _(Breathing slowly, heavily)_ Oh.

MARTIN:  
 _(Audibly smiling)_ Jonathan Blackwood-Sims...

JON:  
 _(A croaky breath)_ It sounds so real when you say it like that.

MARTIN:  
 _(A deep, drawn out impression. Having far too much fun with it)_ Jonathan Blackwood-Sims, head archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. 

JON:  
 _(Sighs)_ Oh. Right. _(Raspy)_ I- I -. Right. 

_ [Long pause. A long sip of tea. Then a mug goes down on the desk. Martin hesitates...] _

MARTIN:  
 _(Slowly)_ You don’t have to, you know? I’m only saying... I mean I’d _love_ to give it to you, but you really don’t have to. I know it’s a big decision. 

JON:  
 _(Miles away...)_ Yes. A big decision. 

MARTIN:  
 _(Nervous, quick)_ And whatever order you want, you know. If you did want to. I’m only messing, I mean you could put Sims first, it wouldn’t have to be that way round...

JON:  
 _(Scoffs)_ Well. Sims-Blackwood hardly rolls off the tongue. 

MARTIN:  
 _(Still barrelling)_ No, but - I know you’ve already done all these tapes under _your_ name, and I know it’s a faff, changing all your forms and whatnot. Waiting at the bank. Passport. And it’s a big shift, moving right up the alphabet. S to B... _(He slows down, breathes, a tiny bit shakily.)_ But... If you want to. 

JON:  
 _(Softly, meaning it)_ I do. _(Then, back to normal)_ I mean. I think I do. I... uh. I mean I do think I want to. Only... I’m not sure. ( _Lamely)_ I need to think about it. 

MARTIN:  
Right. _(Rational. Trying not to sound disappointed)_ Yeah, of course. 

_ [A long pause. A good few ticks of the clock.]  _

JON:  
 _(A sharp inhale before he plows into it-)_ I want it. I do, I really love the idea that we’d be the same, have the same name, and I’d _love_ to be... that. To be Jonathan Blackwood-Sims and live up to it... to- to be that man, but I... _(Sighs)_ I’m just not sure I am, Martin.

_ [Martin tuts sadly, goes to say something -] _

JON:  
 _(Apologetic)_ I know. I’m just worrying. I _know_ it’s unhelpful, I’m sorry but I’m - I’m just... nervous. I suppose.

_ [Pause. The swish of cashmere and starched cotton moving and the brush of knuckles together. The squishing of air between two palms. Another sigh.] _

MARTIN:  
Can I play you something back? Something I’m gonna go ahead and assume you recorded? 

[Tape clicks off.]

[Tape clicks on.]

INT. OFFICE - DAY

_ [The same office clock ticks. The faint clink of porcelain against the wood of the desk as something is moved and removed. Jon hums as if appraising something. Then the door opens suddenly.] _

MARTIN:  
Jon? 

JON:  
 _(Jumpy)_ Martin!

MARTIN:  
Daisy said you wanted me? 

JON:  
Yeah, yeah. I did. 

MARTIN:  
Alright?

JON:  
Yes, of course. Nothing’s wrong. 

MARTIN:  
You need something? I’m just off upstairs. 

JON:  
No, no. I just. Wanted to see you. 

MARTIN:  
Okay. ( _Smitten)_ Well, It’s nice to see you too. _(Pause, looking around)_ So, what’s all this then?

JON:  
Thought you might want a break. 

MARTIN:  
 _(Getting it)_ Ohhhh. _(Impressed)_ Is that a proper teapot? 

JON:  
 _(Proudly)_ Yes. 

MARTIN: I didn’t know we had a proper one. 

_ [He taps it.] _

MARTIN:  
Oh, china? 

JON:  
Yes. I got it at the market. It’s looseleaf. 

MARTIN:  
Oh, thank you. 

_ [A chair scrapes against the floor, Martin sits down and shuffles up to the desk.] _

MARTIN:  
You’re sweet sometimes, you know. _(Teasing)_ When you really try.

JON:  
Thank you. 

_ [The squeak and roll of a wheely office chair as Jon joins him.]  _

JON:  
It should be brewed. 

_ [The metal of the strainer clinks against the china. The splashing of pouring water.] _

MARTIN:  
So. What’s the special occasion?

JON:  
 _(Defensive)_ I told you. No special occasion. 

MARTIN:  
_(Half-laughing)_ I don’t believe you.

JON:  
I’m just... trying. 

MARTIN:  
Alright. 

_ [Clinking of tea-spoons against china. A blown breath across the surface before a hitched sip.] _

MARTIN:  
Oh, wow, that’s really - 

JON:  
 _(Interrupting suddenly)_ So I know before, I’ve said that people don’t need anything spiritual to prove they care about each other. 

MARTIN:  
Oh, alright. Yeah, you have said that. 

JON:  
And I thought I didn’t need anything, uh, like that to prove that I care about you, or-or that you care about me. Sort of gone off the whole idea of gods recently. _(Half laughs)_ And obviously I don’t do church and you - you don’t do church.

MARTIN:  
 _(Amused, popping)_ Nope. 

JON:  
And I’ve said before that I didn’t see why people felt the need for a piece of paper. 

MARTIN:  
 _(A bit confused)_ Sure...

JON:  
Well. Uh. Well, I’ve been thinking about it. A lot. recently. 

MARTIN:  
 _(Realising now...)_ Oh. 

JON:  
I-I-I’ve been thinking about... about how much I love you, and what I would say if I were to tell you that in front of people. And I thought it sounded... I mean obviously I’d make mess of it, p-probably, but I thought it sounded, uh - good. 

MARTIN:  
Okay... _(Keep going...)_

JON:  
And I was thinking about promises, and what kind of promises people make, uh, when they sign things and I realised I... I already do all those things or-or I want to do those things. You know, like - sharing, and looking after each other, for better or worse. And I mean. _(Rough laugh)_ Death didn’t even manage to keep us apart forever, did it? Or all those nearly ends of the world. A few ends of the world. Am I making sense? 

MARTIN:  
 _(Breathy, a little awestruck)_ Yeah... yeah, I know what you’re saying. Jon, I - 

JON:  
 _(Desperate)_ Wait, I haven’t finished. 

MARTIN:  
Okay. 

JON:  
I think... ( _a deep breath)_ I know the timing doesn’t make a lot of sense. You know. What with everything going on and me... I mean legally I’m not sure how me being ‘The Archivist’ would affect the proceedings seeing as we’re only just allowed to anyway as two humans but -

MARTIN:  
 _(Gently, he’s said it all before)_ You _know_ it doesn’t change how I feel about - 

JON:  
But I actually would quite like the piece of paper. 

MARTIN:  
Oh. This is..? _(high)_ Now?!

_ [A loud squeaking as the chair’s wheels push back from the desk. A few uneven footsteps. The swishing of fabric and a small gasp from Martin as Jon goes down on one knee.] _

MARTIN:  
Oh, God...

JON:  
So. Um. If you’re, uh, amenable to all of this. 

_ [Martin laughs, or half sobs.] _

JON:  
Stop laughing. 

MARTIN:  
I’m not. Promise...

_ [He breathes like he has hiccups.] _

JON:  
I, uh. I thought I ought to go about it properly. 

_ [The rummaging of a hand in a pocket. Then a small velvet-clad pop and the faint sound of a tiny hinge.] _

MARTIN:  
Oh God...

JON:  
Hopefully that’s... that’s alright. I figured it wasn’t cheating if I just _knew_ your size. And- and the man in the shop seemed to think this was a popular choice. I mean he doesn’t get a lot of returns, obviously. Which I suppose is a good sign. I liked it anyway and I figured diamond couldn't be the _wrong_ \- 

MARTIN:  
 _(Cutting him off)_ Ask me. 

JON:  
What? 

MARTIN:  
Go on, Jon, ask me. _(He half laughs, sniffs)_ You’re going to kill me with all this suspense.

JON:  
Yes, right. sorry. 

MARTIN:  
Don’t bloody apologise, _(he sniffs again, draws a sobbing breath)_ just - 

JON:  
 _(soft, horrified-)_ You’re crying - 

MARTIN:  
Ask me! 

JON:  
Right. Martin. (Sharp inhale) I... I love you. I love you and I want you to have everything I have to give you. So, if you could, uh. I-if you want to... Will you marry me? 

MARTIN:  
 _(There is no hesitation)_ Yes. 

JON:  
Yes?

MARTIN:  
Yes! _(E_ _xcited laughter)_ Come here - 

_ [Chair legs scrape. A series of quick, elated kisses against closed, smiling lips. Then hands slide over cloth and into hair. Sniffing back of tears. Something longer and heavier, louder when they pull apart.] _

JON:  
The ring - 

MARTIN:  
Here - _(shaky laughs)_ Sorry, shaking... 

JON:  
 _(Soft, relieved)_ It fits... 

MARTIN:  
 _(As fond as it’s possible to be)_ You knew it would.

JON:  
Well I wanted to do it right. 

MARTIN:  
You did it wonderfully. _(He laughs again, still breathless)_ God - I - I can’t believe you - 

JON:  
 _(Chuckling)_ No, me neither. 

_ [Clothing ruffles as they embrace again. Quiet, joyous laughter barely contained through sniffy kisses.] _

JON:  
What? 

MARTIN:  
I can’t stop smiling... 

JON:  
I think... this is the most I’ve ever smiled in this basement. 

[Tape clicks off.]

[Tape clicks on.]

INT. OFFICE - DAY, AS BEFORE

MARTIN:  
 _(Gently, leading a horse to water)_ See? 

JON:  
See what? 

MARTIN:  
You were nervous then?

JON:  
Christ, yeah. 

MARTIN:  
Even though you were sure you wanted to marry me? 

JON:  
Of course. 

MARTIN:  
And you were sure I’d say yes?

JON:  
Yes. Well. Ninety percent. 

MARTIN:  
Then please. _(Slowly, pointedly)_ Do me the courtesy of believing that _I_ was sure when I said _yes_. Had a good few weeks and I haven’t changed my mind yet, have I? You can be sure and nervous.

_ [A moment as that sinks in. Jon slowly lets out the breath he was holding.] _

JON:  
Sometimes you come out with the wisest things. 

MARTIN:  
Lucky you caught it on tape. _(Small huffs of laughter)_ I’ve been a genius all along you lot just never noticed. 

JON:  
 _(Smiling but dead serious)_ I don’t deserve you. 

MARTIN:  
I reckon I’ll be the judge of that, actually. 

_ [A chair is pushed back and two elbows shuffle across the desktop. A gentle kiss. A contended quiet.] _

JON:  
 _(Soft)_ I’d marry you tomorrow. 

MARTIN:  
Me too. 

_ [The chair scoots back to the desk.]  _

MARTIN:  
 _(Amused)_ Wouldn’t be the classiest affair though, would it? I feel like the guests would have something to say about there being no food and no bar. 

JON:  
 _(Unsure, thinking out-loud)_ Uh. Guests. Food. Are you excited for all that? You want to plan it all? 

MARTIN:  
I guess so. I mean I’m not going to pay anyone else to. 

JON:  
No. _(He thinks about it for a little longer)_

MARTIN:  
What is it? 

JON:  
I don’t even know who I’d invite. 

_ [A quiet few ticks of the clock. Martin knows what he means.]  _

MARTIN:  
Shall we just... go? 

JON:  
 _What?_

MARTIN:  
What if we just... left? Got married tomorrow. _(He laughs, excited)_ You wanted to run away, didn’t you? That’s what you wanted. 

JON:  
 _(Stammering, disbelieving)_ I - I guess?

MARTIN:  
So let’s do it! You didn’t want all the fuss and people anyway. Let’s just go!

JON:  
 _(A bit scandalised)_ Elope?! 

MARTIN:  
Yeah! 

JON:  
Really? Don’t _you_ want... table decorations and cake and everything..? 

MARTIN:  
Not really. ( _Grinning)_ I just want to marry you. How’s tomorrow? 

JON:  
You’re serious? You’re seriously asking me to elope with you? 

MARTIN:  
Yes! _(An exasperated laugh)_ Yes I am. You got to ask me, it’s only fair. 

JON:  
What, _properly_? 

MARTIN:  
I’m _properly_ asking you to marry me tomorrow. 

JON:  
 _(Very high pitched)_ Tomorrow?!

MARTIN:  
Or the next day or this weekend... whenever we can get away!

_ [Martin sighs, a laughing, fond sigh. The soft swish of skin as fingers interlock across the desk. He slows down, talks seriously now.] _

MARTIN:  
Don’t you get it? Then there’s nothing to be nervous about, no waiting or audience or anything. Just me and you on a train, no pressure. My name, your name, whatever. It would just be us. 

JON:  
I get it. _(He splutters at the spontaneity of it all)_ Where? W-where would we even go?

MARTIN:  
I don’t know; anywhere! We could go down to Bournemouth -

JON:  
 _(Absolutely not)_ Ughh.

MARTIN:  
Or Oxford? Or up North - 

JON:  
Or Scotland? 

MARTIN:  
 _(Sucking in a breath)_ You... you mean to Gretna Green? 

JON:  
Well if we’re going to do it why not do it properly. _(Half joking, half serious)_ Romantic enough for you-? 

_ [Martin says nothing, just kisses him, cutting off his laugh. Then we hear the tapping of thumbs and keyboard clicks.] _

JON:  
What do you think? What’re you doing?

MARTIN:  
I’m looking at train times! Christ, a hundred and twenty-one pounds from St Pancras to Newcastle, they’re taking the mick - 

JON:  
I’ll get the tickets - 

MARTIN:  
 _(Exasperated)_ No you won’t, you got the ring! And the posh tea. 

_ [Jon tries to argue-] _

MARTIN:  
 _(Firmly)_ I’ll get the tickets. And a B&B. And two weeks paid leave. 

JON:  
 _(Small laugh)_ Alright. 

MARTIN:  
You just show up on time and marry me, yeah? 

JON:  
Yes. Promise. I should probably get a new railcard. 

MARTIN:  
Oh?

JON:  
Since I’ll have another name on the way back. 

MARTIN:  
 _(A happy shaky exhale)_ Really? 

JON:  
Really. That’s - _(meaning it)_ that’s what I want. 

_ [More happy breaths. Fabric swishes and elbows hit the desk again. A hand scratches at the hair at a nape. Close breathing and tape spooling.]  _

MARTIN:  
Turn that thing off and come kiss me properly, Jonathan Blackwood-Sims. 

_ [Someone inhales sharply.] _

[Tape clicks off.]

**Author's Note:**

> love wins🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 pls 
> 
> ((disclaimer: this was not a response to anything said about kissing and the audio medium. this being written is different to actual sfx anyway lol. its transcript format bc im a lazy screenwriter and i cant be arsed with anything but dialogue. i will not be taking questions or making comments on this at this time thank u sndwuiebgie))
> 
> xxx


End file.
